Dark Eyes
by Kazuya-sama
Summary: Paul discovered a mystery warrior in a dark alley in Tokyo, bloodied and beaten. In a drunken stupor, he attempts to comfort the dark-eyed stranger. [yaoi]


A/N: Okay, here's something bizarre from me. Pointless sex, yay! I've also left it completely open...you never know who the other in the relationship is ~_^

This is at the moment a lousy one-shot (didn't take long to write, one sitting) but I may continue it. Note I don't mention time or age on Paul's behalf...it shall leave you guessing WHO this someone might have been *cackle* and I ain't tellin' ya!

[/immaturity]

Right. On with it!

***

Of all the things to forget, Paul had forgotten the face. The face, of all things! How was he supposed to remember that bizarre encounter without remembering the face? The hangover he had wasn't helping matters either, and he clung to the mattress beneath him as if he were on a boat in a raging storm, out at sea.

***

He remembered what happened well, despite it being through a cloud of liquor-induced lack of clarity. He'd left the bar in the small hours of the morning, barely able to walk straight, and headed down the unfamiliar roads within Tokyo, trying to remember where his hotel was. He knew he shouldn't have drunk so much, especially with his match in the tournament coming within a few days. Oh well, who cares? 

He'd managed to get totally lost after only a few minutes. Landmarks eluded him when he and spirits mixed. Before he knew it, he was in a part of town he'd never seen before, with an abundance of side streets and less than salubrious looking characters hanging around, as if with nothing better to do. The young Japanese boys around were alien to him; his time spent in his short relationships were with western men...usually tall, hairy and fairly large, physically. These undersized youths made him curious, however...what were they like in bed?

It was annoying him, not being able to stumble his way home. He'd been in Tokyo before, for tournaments mostly; he should recognise it to a small degree by now...but no, his mind didn't want to acknowledge anything. 

As he passed by yet another alleyway, and was about to head onwards, when he heard what he decided was a fight. He paused, turned on his heels, and managed to turn back around without falling over. He always loved a good fight, why pass up the opportunity? After a moment, he headed on in around the corner to see what was going on. Nothing but darkness met his eyes in the drunken haze, so to his annoyance, he had to stand and watch to figure out what was happening, and where, rather than leap in himself. 

It didn't last long; after less than half a minute, two bodies had been flung out from the alley and onto the footpath. They must've been hit by a pretty powerful limb to achieve that. Before long the two picked themselves up and ran off in the other direction, especially after seeing Paul standing there. 

The drunken biker stumbled further into the darkness, curious about what had happened. As the glaring orange from the streetlights dimmed from view, he saw a small hint of white and red at the back of the alley, next to the brick wall at the very end. Was it a person?

_Might as well find out_, he thought to himself. He staggered onward a few metres, and observed again. It _was_ a person...a young local, injured. There was blood on his jeans and singlet, and wounds all over his body. Those mugs must have been armed. The wounded man stumbled backward when he finally saw Paul, tripped over, and landed in a pile of cardboard boxes. Was he scared? Perhaps he was just startled. Whichever, he looked like he needed a hug.

Paul stepped up in front of him, and offered a hand. "Howdy stranger..." He could hear the drunken slur on his words, but it didn't seem all that bad to him. He knew what he was saying, after all... "You look a bit roughed up. You alright?"

The local man didn't offer a hand in return. "Do I look alright to you?" There was a hint of sarcasm and a Japanese accent in his deep voice. 

"Well no, but you look like you could use a hug..." Whoops, did he actually say that? "Here..." He reached down and grasped an arm, and pulled the smaller man to his feet. Not that he was much smaller, mind you...he was quite well muscled, and almost six feet tall...there wasn't a ridiculous size difference, that's for sure. He didn't meet too much resistance...the young man must have been exhausted from fighting so hard at this time of night. 

"What are you doing...?" The Japanese man tried to pull away as Paul looped one large arm around the slender waist before him. He rested the other hand on his shoulder, and smiled. 

"Don't worry; I'm just trying to make you feel better."

"I don't even know you...why don't you just leave me alone and get on with your life?"

He drew the man closer...he was sweaty, as well as being drenched in blood. "Because...I dunno."

The smaller man squirmed in Paul's grasp, and muttered something in his native language. Paul held him tight nevertheless, and managed to find the nearest wall; as he did, he carefully pressed him against it. 

"Let me go..." He didn't squirm, but tried to push the American man away instead. Despite being surprisingly strong, he wasn't quite strong enough to heave Paul's large body away without considerable effort...an investment he clearly wasn't quite able to make at the time. 

Paul reached up and gently caught his chin with one hand. His skin was surprisingly soft and smooth, and still heated from the battle that had raged a few minutes ago. He looked the young man in the eyes – such beautiful, dark eyes, but with something eerie about them – and smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you...I'm going to make it better..."

He couldn't place what it was about the stranger that drew him to him so much, or made him feel like he needed to pay him attention...it was just an eerie inkling. Still, he felt he had to act on the instinct, and right now. Cautiously, he pressed him against the wall a little more firmly, resisting the struggles he met, and gently kissed the crook of his neck. 

The moment his lips touched the hot flesh, the struggles ceased. He noticed the young man in front of him tensing up significantly, but he'd stopped fighting. That was a good sign. As Paul slowly moved his lips upward, his nose captured the native man's scent...sweaty, but masculine and...intoxicating. His tongue trailed upward until he met the earlobe, which he softly nipped between his teeth.

As soon as he did, the man hissed through his teeth, and grasped handfuls of Paul's blonde hair. For a moment he simply held him there, but as Paul continued to toy with his lips and teeth, the powerful, slender fingers pulled him closer, as if to urge him onward. Paul took the invitation, and nibbled with more enthusiasm on the neck and ear before him. The stranger's head tilted away, granting him more room to play, and the warm, lightly muscled arms wrapped themselves around his thick neck. Perhaps his earlier urge to comfort the man had been an accurate feeling...

After a moment, he pulled back and looked down at the man below him. It was too dark to see any specific features, but he noticed raven hair, some of which fell over his face; those mysterious but beautiful dark eyes, and a fairly slender face. The face itself seemed to bear a confused expression, but for what reason, Paul couldn't exactly decipher in his drunken state. 

He reached down and pulled the hem of the ragged shirt upward, pulling it carefully off the wounded body before him. He met little resistance, though for a moment, the man's slender hands grasped it, as if hesitant to be stripped of his clothing. Paul tucked the bloodied article half way into the pocket of his jacket for lack of a better place to put it, and glanced down at what had been beneath it.

The dim orange hue of the street lamps in the distance reflected off a set of powerful abdominal and pectoral muscles, though it wasn't enough to reveal any unusual features; scars, tattoos, third nipples...nothing was obvious in the dim light. He looked down further, to the crotch of the tight-fitting blue jeans; that stood out against the light, being semi-aroused already, and pressing against the fly of the pants persistently. Paul wasted no time, and undid the belt and fly, and hiked the pants down to the Japanese man's knees. 

The erection stood out into the warm evening air proudly, despite the fact that its owner suddenly seemed even more tense and nervous than before...and almost afraid. The nearly naked man pressed himself further against the wall, almost as if he hoped he could disappear through it. Again, Paul leaned forward and nibbled on his neck; it seemed to relax him a moment ago.

As he tried to calm the smaller man down, he reached into another pocket and pulled out a small foil package. After pulling down his own fly and setting free a now painfully large arousal, he ripped open the package and fumbled for a moment. He discarded the wrapper, then leaned down to pick the Japanese man up; he then rested him against the wall again, holding him beneath the knees. The jeans he still wore formed a tight band between his knees, and between himself and Paul.

Paul pressed his chest against the other man's, and kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, I'm still not going to hurt you..." He didn't look convinced.

"I promise..." The American man smiled as he said it, and leaned forward to press his lips against the dark haired man's. As they met, Paul realised he was kissing perhaps the most exquisitely soft and warm lips he'd found on a man before. They didn't respond to his advances – his head didn't turn from Paul, but he didn't part his lips for him either. 

A moment passed before he let the man drop down a little; at the same time, he pressed up against him, so his tip just grazed over the warm entrance below. The man gasped and flinched, clearly resisting struggling for freedom once again. 

"Shh..." Paul hushed him, and kissed the unresponsive lips again. "It'll feel good..."

The blonde pushed himself against the smaller man again so he could feel the other's hardness against his stomach. The Japanese grunted in response, flinching again...this time, pressing himself up against the larger man. Not able to judge any better in this state, Paul took it as a beg for action, and acted upon it; without warning, he pushed himself against the entrance again, this time with brute force...and moaned softly against the man's neck as he felt himself become engulfed by the soft heat within.

A loud, deep cry echoed sharply in his ear, and he felt fingernails dig into his neck painfully. He knew the man had drawn blood...but Paul had probably done the same thing at the same time elsewhere. Perhaps he'd never done this before...he didn't seem particularly ready for Paul's advance. What sounded almost like a pained sob hit Paul's ear a moment afterward, and he realised he'd caused quite a bit of pain with his unpredictable move. He looked over his shoulder and over at the man's face, only to see him with his eyes squeezed shut and lower lip clenched firmly between his teeth. He still had his fingernails in Paul's neck.

"Calm down...it'll be better in a moment. Here, lean back..." He pressed him against the wall again, and slipped one hand under the raven haired man's bared bottom. For a good solid half minute, he simply rested there, letting him adjust to the feeling of Paul's endowment within him. The sound of ragged breathing was all that could be heard within the darkened alley; no one would see or hear what was going on from the outside. After letting him acclimatise, Paul lifted the other man's hips and angled them more adequately, before gently drawing out and pushing back in again. Once again, the slender warrior squirmed in his grasp, but in reaction to the sudden sensation he'd clearly never felt before. 

"See? It's not so bad now..." Paul softly whispered into the Japanese's ear. He tried to find that particular spot within; the sweet spot that would make it an incredible experience for this inexperienced man. In his drunken state, it was hard to be accurate, but eventually he found it...the gasp, followed by a soft, restrained moan was all the information he needed to come to that conclusion. From then on, he made an effort to hit that spot with every thrust, slowly rubbing it more and more firmly as he continued.

As he felt warm, strong arms wrapping around his neck, Paul looked across at his lover...eyes shut tight just like before, but without the look of fear and agony...this time, it was pleasure. After a moment the dark-haired head dropped back against the wall, letting out a few ragged gasps after a short whimper. The blonde couldn't resist any longer, and leaned forward again to capture those soft lips in a passionate kiss. This time, they parted completely and allowed the American man full access to this uncharted territory. Their tongues clashed hotly as the arms around Paul's neck drew closer, holding him almost painfully firmly. It was one of the most passionate, fervent kisses Paul had experienced in years...it was incredible, coming from this foreign man.

Somehow, despite the moment within the alley, hardly a sound was made, other than the moans and gasps of the Japanese man. Even so, they were highly restrained, and for a good few minutes, no one would have suspected anything. Paul felt his end coming, despite his drunken body's normal habit of not wanting to do anything with this volume of alcohol floating around in his bloodstream. The man in his arms was clearly nearing his end too, judging by his body language. At this point he was moving at the same pace as Paul, pressing himself against the mighty stomach he'd been sandwiched against. 

In a flash, it all began to end. The moans of the man beneath him increased in volume, and again, he dug his fingernails into Pail's neck viciously. He felt the body in front of him tense with a cry of ecstasy, then slump weakly into his arms in the next few seconds, breathing heavily. Witnessing that sight was enough to push Paul over the edge himself, and he exploded within the other man, pushing him almost violently against the wall as his body was assaulted with the waves of the ultimate pleasure.

After allowing himself a few seconds of recovery, Paul let the smaller man's feet drop to the ground, then leaned down to capture his lips in a deep kiss. His hand rose to pet the other man's cheek; there was a trail of warm liquid with not quite the consistency of blood. He'd been crying...but with pain, or pleasure? It had to be the latter, he was kissing too passionately for it to be the former.

He broke the kiss eventually, standing slightly uneasily in front of the Japanese. That little episode had helped to clear his head, he noticed...hopefully enough to get him home. He reached down and pulled the latex off himself, and discarded the used item; after doing so, he reached down and gently pulled up the other man's jeans and underwear, chuckling as he carefully packed him into the pants and zipped them up. He did the same to his own trousers. The look on the dark-haired man's face softened slightly, and he smiled back ever so slightly. 

"So..." Paul began, "What's your name, anyway?"

He seemed hesitant to respond. As he opened his mouth to speak, loud, angry voices shouting in Japanese echoed about the walls of the alley way. He glanced quickly out towards the road, then back up at Paul. "I have to go..."

Before the American could respond, the smaller man had taken off at a run toward the end of the alley, expertly jumped up a few stacks of boxes, and leaped over the brick wall...and disappeared. 

A moment later, five or so figures raced into the alley. Paul stumbled back and out of view, watching them silently. The skidded to a halt at the end, shouting at one another for a moment, unsure of what action to take; it took them a good few moments to realise the boxes, and the height of the wall, but when they did, they wasted no time in bounding over the top of them.

After silence had returned to the alley, Paul had waited around a short while, deciding what to do. With no ideas coming, he eventually headed back to his hotel, fumbling his way through the streets of Tokyo.

***

Paul remembered the shirt after a moment, and reached over to his jacket, pulling it out of the pocket and resting it on his lap. It was ripped and blood streaked, but still, it was the only thing that would remind him of the mysterious native man. He sat there examining it for a while, when he realised...it had been in exactly the right place when they'd done it. Right in the centre of it was a large white stain...he held it to his nose, and inhaled. Yes, he knew exactly what that was...

_Looks like you left me something to remember you by after all, you cheeky little bastard..._ Paul smiled to himself.

Then he remembered the fight, and the thugs that had chased him out. Why had they been trying to kill the mystery man? What was their motive, and what had he apparently done wrong? Or more importantly, who was he?

Who _was_ he?

Paul decided he had to try and find him. Despite the fact that there were millions of young Japanese men in the city, he knew he had to find him before the tournament ended and he had to go back home. If not for the sake of solving a mystery, for his own sake. Yes, that's what he'll do...try and find his mystery lover.


End file.
